Swords and Sorcery: Powers and Possibilities
by Susanoh13
Summary: Author Omakes related to the Swords and Sorcery series. Mostly joke chapters and "what-if" scenarios. With magic at hand, anything is possible. Well, maybe not "anything", but lots of things. Lots of wacky, weird, crazy things. WARNING: may contain spoilers or implied spoilers for the main story.
1. The Black Family Business I

_Inspired by a number of comments on SB about Iris clearly being inclined towards stealing the Philosopher's Stone in "No Route Back"._

 _Clearly she was destined for a life of crime, even if she didn't know it._

 **The Black Family Business**

Iris yawned as she stumbled down the stairs of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There were a number of voices chatting away in the kitchen, and noise had awoken her from the glorious 16 hours of sleep she needed every once in awhile during her summer holidays.

"Iris!" A familiar voice called out.

"Rin?" Iris mumbled sleepily. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back in Japan?"

"Not when there's work to be done." Rin replied smartly. "We've all been waiting for you to be ready though."

Rin placed a hand on the small of her back and began to guide her towards the kitchen.

"Oh!" She said before the entrance. "We can't have you attending the meeting like that."

With a wave of her wand, Rin transfigured Iris's pajamas into a smart black tuxedo. Another wave brought her hair back into a tight ponytail.

"What?" Iris said in sleepy panic as she looked down at herself.

Rin ignored her question and steered her the rest of the way into the kitchen.

Iris forced herself to a stop as she stepped in and found Hermione, Shirou, Neville, Tonks, Sirius, and Luna all sitting or standing around the dining table, all dressed in smart black suits or dresses according to their gender or preference.

Luna's was pink.

Shirou probably would have looked better had he not also been wearing a pink, frilly apron that said "Kiss the Cook Bodyguard" on it.

The room went silent and everyone stood at attention as she entered.

"What's going on?" Iris asked.

"Quite a lot." Hermione answered, pulling out a large binder and slamming it down onto the table. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament really opened up international borders to The Family, and the Weasley Twins filing to open a legitimate shop has created a lot of opportunities for us."

She pulled out a narrow book that gloriously displayed the title _How to Launder Money_ and began to page through it, nodding to herself.

"What?" Iris asked.

"Don't jump on her so quickly." Rin chided. "She needs a bit of pep to get her going during summer holidays."

She smirked at Iris, who could only stare blankly around the room.

"Kreacher!" She called out. "Coffee!"

"Yes, Miss Tohsaka!" Kreacher said meekly as he popped into the room with a two cups of steaming coffee. "Two cups of coffee, Black style" He handed the cups to Iris and Rin.

"Very good, Kreacher." Rin said.

"Thank you for the praise, Miss Tohsaka." Kreacher bowed and then popped away.

"What did you do to that elf?" Sirius asked, as he stared at the space the elf had been occupying.

"Taught it some manners." Rin said with a smile.

Sirius opened his mouth, closed his mouth, opened it again, then looked away.

"This is why you're the head of enforcement." He muttered.

Iris raised the coffee cup to her lips before thinking about what Kreacher had said and stopping.

"What exactly is 'Black style'?" She asked.

"According to Kreacher," Rin said, "it is the traditional Black Family way of making coffee. The beans are grown on land where the family has buried the bodies of their foes. The beans are ground using a mortar and pedestal made of the hip bone and femur of a slain enemy. During brewing, the coffee is aerated with the magically captured lamentations of the women left behind by said enemy's defeat. No sugar, no milk, though you can add some salt in the form of children's' tears to taste." Rin took a sip from her cup. "It's the Genghis Khan of coffees."

Iris stared at her for a moment before bringing her own cup back to her lips and taking a small sip.

She immediately perked up as the taste and sensation of the coffee filtered through her body.

She stared down at the cup in her hands. It wasn't the normal way that she perked up from caffeine.

"Why does it taste..." She liked her lips and tried to think of a way to phrase her question. "Why does it taste sexy?"

"Oh." Rin gave her a bit of a predatory grin and leaned close to whisper in her ear. "Kreacher told me that we were all out of fresh lamentations. So, before Fleur went back to France, I captured some of her moans and screams as I _drove her beneath me_." Rin winked.

Iris stared at her, then down at her cup before taking a slow, long sip.

She'd never really been a coffee person before.

She was now a coffee person.

"So," she said, a little more awake now, "what's all this?"

"As Hermione mentioned..." Rin started speaking as she guided Iris to sit at the head of the table. Everyone else followed suit once she was sitting, except Shirou, who was bringing plates of food around to everyone. "We've managed to make use of the Tournament last year to expand our criminal empire outside of Britain, so we've gathered the family heads together to discuss the situation."

"Rin..." Iris spoke slowly, beginning to wonder if this was some kind of super realistic dream. "We don't have a criminal empire."

"Of course we don't." Rin rolled her eyes. "We're just a group of people who disregard most of the laws in this country and sometimes feed people we don't like to our pet dragons."

"That was ONE TIME!" Iris said hotly.

God, you feed one defense professor to a dragon, and suddenly everyone is accusing you of extorting good grades from the rest of the faculty.

"Oh." Rin's eyes opened with understanding. "Is this because of Tonks? Don't worry about talking about crimes in front of her."

"Right'o, Boss." Tonks spoke up from her spot at the table. "Even if you all weren't paying me off, I'm still behind the cause."

"We're paying you off?" Iris asked incredulously.

"Of course not." Tonks winked at her. "I just get a bit of a stipend from the Black family because I'm a member of the branch family. All very legal and above board. And an Auror can't really be blamed for talking about work related topics with her _family_ now, can she?"

"Back on topic though." Hermione spoke up from behind a thick book called: _International Business_. "Our finances are down due to the expansion, but that's to be expected. Our branches in Bulgaria and France are expanding rapidly though and should be in the black shortly."

"Viktor has been working quite hard." Rin spoke up teasingly. "I wonder what we could send to reward him."

Hermione blushed and lifted her business book up to cover her face, causing the magazine that had been open inside of it to fall out.

Before Hermione could react, Rin had her wand out and summoned the magazine across the table.

" _Bulgarian Quidditch Stars: Swimsuit Edition_." Rin read off as she eyed the cover image of a well oiled Viktor Krum wearing what could be generously labeled as a speedo, and would probably be better off with the label like "scrap fabric" or "modesty strip".

"Neville..." Iris turned to her fellow Gryffindor in hopes of a straight answer. "What's happening?"

"Boss!" The young man sat up straight in his chair. "Since we can speak plainly here, let me just thank you directly for this opportunity."

Iris just stared.

"Sorry for the delay." He spoke a bit more quickly now, misinterpreting her stare as impatience. "Recruiting in Britain has been very successful. The moderate and progressive families tend to join with very little persuasion, just mention of your name is usually enough. The more conservative families take more convincing, but we've found that showing them memories of your encounters with past years of defense professors to be very very persuasive."

"Luna!" Iris said desperately, seeking a last bastion of sanity in her quickly collapsing world.

"Infiltration of the Unspeakables has been successful, Boss." The girl said cheerily. "We've found tangible evidence of the Heliopath conspiracy, and are making slow progress in busting the whole thing wide open. The Ministry will be at our full mercy once we have all their dirty, magical laundry ready to expose to the world."

Iris sat back in her seat as the rest of the table congratulated each other on their works.

Maybe she had been dumped into an alternate dimension while she slept... That seemed plausible...

She glanced down at the cup in her trembling hand.

At least the coffee was good.


	2. The Black Family Business II

**Omake: The Black Family Business - The Japan Branch**

Iris resisted the urge to scratch her nose. She would have been resentful of being stuffed into formal clothing and forced to sit in on an excessively formal meeting, but who she was meeting made it all okay.

Nurarihyon and the Kyuubi no Kitsune, the leaders of the Kyoto Youkai, were both sitting formally across the small room from her.

Nurarihyon had the look of an elderly man, with some parts out of proportion. His head was too long, and his hands were small and claw-like. If you looked away from him for too long though, you could forget about him entirely.

The Kyuubi languished next to him. Her posture and clothing were all incredibly formal, and her nine tails arrayed behind her body were very intimidating. Yet somehow, she gave off a feeling of a young woman simply relaxing. It made Iris want to throw off the formalities and just mingle with the fox and her retainers.

The fact that the woman's simple movements made her kimono hug her curves and bare just the right amount of flesh to make her godfather gulp audibly helped remind Iris of how dangerous the Kyuubi was.

A number of other Youkai were arranged throughout the room. Iris picked out a hideous yomotsu-shikome, who Rin said would be there to represent the Japanese underworld.

As a Westerner, Iris was allowed to wear wizard robes and sit cross-legged, while all of the Japanese natives had to sit in seiza, the discomfort of some of her friends made her feel a little better about the itch on her nose that she couldn't scratch.

Schadenfreude could do wonders for your outlook.

She also didn't have to participate much in the conversation. Rin handled that, while a translation spell allowed Iris to follow along smoothly.

After what seemed like an hour of pointless formalities, Rin signaled that they were about to get down to business and Iris perked up.

"Thank you again for agreeing to meet with us." Rin said, bowing deeply.

Iris inclined her head respectfully in agreement, as Rin had instructed her to.

"We have acknowledged formality enough for today, I think." Nurarihyon spoke in a no nonsense elderly tone.

He raised a saucer of Japanese alcohol to his lips and emptied it.

"Let us get down to business, or even the Kyuubi will have wrinkles before we leave." He poured more alcohol into his saucer and pointedly ignored the fanged smile that the Kyuubi sent his way.

She didn't say anything, but still managed to convey a promise of brutal revenge with her smile alone.

Sirius gulped audibly again.

"Of course." Rin replied respectfully. "As our messages have mentioned, we wish to open a branch of the Black Family Mafia here in Kyoto for dealing with the Kyoto Youkai and Magical Japan."

"You ask us for permission," the Kyuubi interjected, "but you have already received permission to open one of your 'legitimate businesses' here from the magical government. For what reasons have you come to the Youkai? You don't need our permission to peddle your wares to the magicals."

"That would be because we would like to open trade with the Youkai community."

"You know, of course, that unsanctioned trade with Youkai is highly illegal. The International Wizarding Community has placed an embargo on all products from the Youkai community."

"The Black Family rarely let's simple things like the law get in our way." Rin grinned as she responded.

"Indeed." The Kyuubi opened a paper fan and raised it to cover her mouth, but didn't keep the smile from showing in her eyes. "And I'm sure the rumors of inconvenient people being fed to dragons keeps those who would enforce the law at a reasonable distance."

Iris couldn't help it. Her eye twitched.

One time! Only one person had been fed to a dragon, and no one had liked him anyways. How had that rumor reached all the way to Japan?

"Our Boss doesn't appreciate people getting in her way or slowing her down." Rin said with a nod.

"Oh?" The Kyuubi drew the word out. "And what does that mean for us? If we refuse this deal will we be 'slowing you down'?"

Rin smiled and gave a one shoulder shrug.

The Kyuubi's tails began to move lazily, and the rest of the Youkai were looking equally restless.

Iris had to keep herself from staring a hole through the side of Rin's head.

She was threatening the entire Youkai community by implicitly agreeing that they were an obstacle. She was also putting Iris on the spot as the person who would do something. Iris had never intentionally 'removed an obstacle' in her life... except for Umbridge, but that didn't count.

"Of course not." Rin finally said. "We had a few ideas about how to approach things in Japan. Even if you don't agree to deal with us, I hope we can retain a _friendly_ relationship moving forward."

"What do you want?" Nurarihyon asked while the Kyuubi hummed behind her fan.  
"And what are you offering?"

"To start with, we would like to trade for magical reagents derived from Youkai."

"You wish to have us cut each other up for your potions?" Nurarihyon said, his voice dropping in tone.

"Of course not!" Rin shouted, before quickly covering her mouth and schooling her features. "A simple hair follicle or fingernail from certain Youkai would be a powerful reagent, and sell for an incredibly high price." She gestured towards the Kyuubi. "Selling the hairs from the brush you use on your tails would make enough money for an average wizarding family to live comfortably for years."

Nurarihyon grinned at the miniscule slight towards the Kyuubi, while the fox glared from behind her fan.

"As for what we're offering." Rin continued. "The trade embargo goes both ways, doesn't it? I'm sure we could get select potions into the Youkai community. A hair growth formula perhaps."

Nurarihyon tapped his bald head in thought while the fox next to him smirked.

"So," the Kyuubi said, "the Black Family wishes to establish a Black Market."

Rin and several of the Youkai laughed politely and Iris silently fumed.

Only Sirius had laughed when _she_ had made that joke, and Sirius would laugh at anything even vaguely resembling a joke.

"I think this is agreeable." Nurarihyon nodded slightly. "The finer details would have to be ironed out, but I think I can agree to the general idea. Kitsune?"

The Kyuubi hummed for another moment before snapping her fan closed and smiling.

Sirius made a few panting noises until someone hit him.

"There is one thing I would like to personally request." She leveled her fan at Shirou, who was sitting quietly next to Iris. "Him!"

"Shirou?" Rin asked, suddenly flustered. "Ahhh... Ummm... Why do you want him?"

"It's not me, personally." The Kyuubi clarified. "But several young Youkai in my household have expressed interest in the young man."

"Shirou..." Rin spoke tonelessly. "What did you do?"

Shirou seemed to try very hard to come up with what he could have done to earn the attention of some Youkai.

"I have no idea." He replied.

"Don't be so modest, darling." The Kyuubi cooed. "A teenage fox girl told me that you saved her life."

"Oh. Yeah. That wasn't a big deal though. Anyone would have done it."

The Kyuubi's eyes narrowed.

"She said that you rescued her from a volcano."

"Yeah."

"And that you fought lava elementals."

"So that's what those were?"

"And you say that it 'wasn't a big deal'?"

"Like I said, 'anyone would have done it', I just happened to be nearby."

"Aaannnd, what of the Princess of the Snow Women?"

"Who?"

"The pale young woman you saved from the spider demons the other day."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine." The Kyuubi's hand made it's way towards her face, but she resisted the urge to facepalm. "But you fought off an army of demonic warriors to protect her."

"Yeah."

"She feels that she owes you a debt."

"No." Shirou said simply, still conversing like this was an everyday conversation. "She doesn't owe me anything. I was just doing the right thing."

Her resistance crumbled, and a loud smack resounded through the room as the Kyuubi no Kitsune facepalmed.

Nurarihyon was having small laughing fits at the byplay, and collapsed to the ground, struggling to breath through his giggles when the Kyuubi broke.

The Kyuubi dragged her hand down her face and moved to smother the giggling older Youkai with her tails.

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "I have..." She counted out a number of papers she retrieved from her sleeve. "Thirteen requests, from rather auspicious families, for me to arrange marriage meetings with Shirou, who saved various beautiful Youkai daughters, as part of our negotiations here.

"Before I consent to this deal, something will have to be done about these."

Rin had been glaring poison at Shirou throughout the entire exchange. She finally opened her mouth to express her opinion on the situation.

"God damn it, Shirou. Saving all those miko before we negotiated with the Magical Government wasn't enough?"


	3. The Black Family Business - Interlude

**Omake: The Black Family Business - Interlude: The Dark Rises**

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Finnius Snerg thought himself highly ranked among Death Eaters. Well, not as highly ranked as the Inner Circle, but that also meant that he avoided a great deal of being tortured by Lord Voldemort for other people's incompetence, at least in his opinion.

No, he did important work for The Cause, but managed to avoid the notoriety that some of the more exuberant Death Eaters acquired, along with a decent bounty from the Ministry.

Today, he was doing important work.

The master had returned from the dead, through some unknown means and in secret, away from any interference. And now, he needed to gather forces to his banner to conquer Magical Britain and liberate it from the mongrels, the mudbloods, and the pathetic beasts that littered the land.

For that reason, he was visiting some dingy pub in Knockturn Alley, in order to trick some of those pathetic beasts into following his Lord.

The wooden sign of _The Den_ hung above him, newly painted with the profile of a wolf sitting in front of the entrance to a cave.

Finnius rolled his eyes behind his Death Eater mask and entered the pub.

The first room he stepped into was actually a small foyer, with two burly bouncers and a smaller man running a coat check. All three men wore chain bracelets at their wrists, with a small talisman hanging from them. The metal was silvery, but Finnius doubted that these men would go anywhere near silver jewelry.

The two bouncers straightened slightly at his appearance, and he sneered at them.

Without a word, he crossed the room and made for the door between the bouncers.

He was surprised when one of them put their arm out and stopped them.

"We're a private club," the man said, his voice gravely but polite. "Can't let you in without a pass or the okay of one of our members."

" _Members,_ " Finnius mocked. "I'm afraid that I don't have _dog_ tags, if that's what you're looking for. Now, get out of my way, grunt, this is above your pay grade. I'm here to speak to your boss."

The two bouncers ignored his jibe, and instead glanced at each other quietly.

After a moment, the one that Finnius had been speaking to jerked his head towards the door and the other bouncer entered the pub.

"He'll check with the boss," the bouncer said politely. "See if he wants to see you."

"You fool," Finnius hissed. "No one makes Lord Voldemort wait."

The bouncer didn't flinch as expected. Instead, he just raised a single eyebrow.

"You're Voldemort?" he asked. "Thought you'd be taller."

"No! You idiot! I'm not Lord Voldemort!"

"Oh... Guess it's fine to make you wait then."

Finnius stood rigid for his moment, clutching his wand and trying to keep himself from putting down the animal in front of him. Luckily for the beast, the door opened before he could draw his wand and the other bouncer returned.

"Boss says to send him in," the man reported.

Finnius snorted, let go of his wand, and marched towards the door, only to be stopped by the bouncer again.

"What!?"

"We have a cover charge," the burly man reported.

"A what?"

"It's a private club." The bouncer shrugged. "We have a cover charge for non-members."

A choking noise escaped from Finnius's throat and he had to hold himself back from reducing the man in front of him to paste.

He reminded himself that he was here to recruit these fools for Lord Voldemort's army. This same grunt in front of him would probably be on the front lines, eating spellfire so that pure-blooded wizards could cast spells from safety.

"How much?"

"Five galleons."

"Five galleons! That's robbery!"

"You could always join the club." The man grinned, showing off his strangely long canines. "If you plan on coming a lot, the cover can add up. It makes joining seem reasonable by comparison."

Finnius took a step back, then quickly composed himself. "I'll pass," he said coldly before passing over five galleons.

He stepped forward, only to be stopped by the bouncer again.

"Would you like to check your coat?"

"No! Get out of my way!" Finnius tried to shove the meathead out of the way, but only managed to push himself backwards.

The bouncer smiled at him and stepped out of the way, letting Finnius storm through into the pub proper.

What he saw there made him pause.

Everything in the Diagon and Knockturn Alleys were run down. When the buildings got to be upwards of nine centuries old, it took a rather enormous amount of magic to make things look like they weren't nine centuries old.

But _The Den_ looked... not new, but perhaps properly antiqued.

There was a long wooden bar that spanned an entire wall of the large, open room, and the wood shone with the luster of a recent lacquering. The floors were well-trod, and clear paths of movement through the room could be discerned from the discolorations on the wood, but the floors had been polished recently, and it made the paths seem to add character to the pub, rather than make it seem more run-down.

A couple of pool tables occupied one corner of the room, and a dart board was set up close to the bar, but far enough away to provide a semblance of safety.

The members of the club were all dressed in business attire; slacks and button up shirts, though the women of the club sometimes wore pencil skirts. All of them had dressed down slightly; with loosened ties and untucked shirts all around.

More grizzled members occupied the bar, though they were often visited by younger members who seemed enthused to sit and talk with their elders.

Finnius shook his head at the idiocy he saw there.

Two of the younger members were even pretending at swordplay with a few of the pool cues.

One of the men was sitting at a couch in a recessed sitting area. He had brown hair, with an encroaching touch of grey, pulled back into a loose ponytail. A matching brown, sharply trimmed goatee showed only slight more brown than grey. He was dressed like the other men in the pub, white button-up shirt and slacks, with a loosened black tie at his throat.

He waved to Finnius and gestured for him to sit in the recessed section with him.

Finnius walked over to the man and sat down in a chair across a small table from the man.

"I'm here to speak with Fenrir Greyback," Finnius said. "The Dark Lord has sent me, and I am tired of being waylaid in my goals."

"That's a damn shame," the man across from him said. "The name's Mitchell, and I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, but there's a bit of a hitch in speaking with Greyback."

A waitress in a white blouse with black slacks and a half apron swept by their table and dropped off a full pint of beer in front of the strange man.

"You see," Mitchell continued. "You're a bit behind on the local news." He raised his pint in a sarcastic salute. "Greyback's dead." He took a long pull from his pint.

"Dead!? How!?"

Mitchell let out a long sigh as he stopped drinking and slammed his half-empty pint of beer onto the table in front of him. "'e thought it would be a good idea to turn a particular fifteen year old girl. I do not believe there were enough pieces left of him when she was done to fill a shoebox."

"Iris Potter?" Finnius smirked as he began to see an easy angle to getting these dogs to follow him.

"That's the one." Mitchell nodded as he fingered his mug a bit. "Didn't think she stood a chance, since Greyback tried for her when she was alone, and on a full moon, but the fight was _real_ one sided."

Finnius sat up straight in his chair at that piece of news. The girl should not have been strong enough to fight a full werewolf on a full moon.

"Well..." He collected his thoughts and figured for the best approach for his recruitment pitch. "I think that we could work together to deal with Iris Potter once and for all."

"Deal with her, huh?" Mitchell leaned forward in his seat and studied Finnius. "What are you suggesting?"

"The Dark Lord could provide powerful wizards, who would help you kill her. She would no longer trouble our lord, and you would get your revenge."

"Revenge is always appealing. But what comes after?"

"What do you mean?"

Mitchell reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rumpled, folded piece of paper and tossed it over the table.

Finnius unfolded the parchment and immediately recognized what it was.

"That is the 'Death Eater Manifesto'," Mitchell said slowly. "It doesn't really have much good to say about people of less-than-pure blood. Which werewolves aren't even considered in, since we aren't even considered to be humans anymore.

"We're beasts. Plague ridden beasts. Dangerous beasts. To be used, then hunted down when our use has ended." Mitchell stared at Finnius across the table. "Or can you tell me that such a thing wasn't your plan from the beginning?"

"Exceptions to the Manifesto can be made for beings that have shown themselves to be useful and are amenable to negotiations," Finnius said smoothly. Of course no changes would be made, and the diseased dogs would most certainly be hunted down once the Ministry was brought to heel. "Eliminating Iris Potter would go a long way towards proving your people to be useful, and it would be a chance at your own revenge."

"Revenge..." Mitchell smiled across the table. "Here, let me show you something." He scooped up his pint glass and stood. "Mates!" he shouted, raising his glass and causing silence to fall in the pub. "To Fenrir Greyback."

The pub was quiet, with the exception of a few warning growls.

"May he rot in Hell!"

Roars of approval filled the room as mugs were raised and alcohol was consumed.

Mitchell sat back down and placed his now empty pint glass onto the table. "There you are," he said. "We all used to follow Greyback, but we all hated him. The only reason that none of us had taken him out was because he came across as an invincible monster." He shook his head and thumped himself on the chest. "Even my beast finds the idea of turning children to be revolting.

"He led through a mixture of fear and lies... Hell, you're a Death Eater, I don't need to explain how that kind of leadership works." Mitchell grinned. "But, a little thing happened when Greyback died."

He paused to let the tension build.

"Iris Potter came for us too... A fifteen year old girl faced down thirty five werewolves on the night of the full moon and handed us all our asses.

"We may be cursed by the moon, but that girl is blessed by it."

He shook his head to clear stray thoughts and continued. "Pinned us all down and waited for our transformations to end... Then... Then, she talked to us. Helped us. Nothing too direct. I doubt the old codgers would have accepted that, but she brought change to us with a featherlight touch that we couldn't turn down.

"We suddenly had a surplus of Wolfsbane in our stocks. A new waitress joined on with a mind for finances and a good knowledge of carpentry skills and spells to keep this old place from falling to ruin."

A young waitress slid by, picking up Mitchells empty mug and replacing it with a full one.

"A few suggestions were floated our way, and eventually an offer for conversation and negotiations." Mitchell grinned ferociously. "We went, of course, and here's the thing." He grabbed the silvery medallion that hung from the chain on his wrist and leaned across the table to show it off.

The material was most likely titanium as closer inspection, and it had the pub's icon, the cave and wolf profile, pressed into the front and back of it.

"You think this is just a pub for werewolves here." He pressed something on the side of the medallion, and it popped open with a soft click, revealing the Black Family crest. "But we're actually a mafia branch in service to the Blacks."

While Finnius was reeling from the revelation, Mitchell swiftly scooped up his new beer and shot to his feet.

"Mates!" he shouted, grabbing everyone's attention again. "To Our Lady of the Blacks!"

The roar of noise that followed shook the whole building.

"Now," Mitchell continued, once the noise had settled down. "This gentleman here was just talking about killing our little lady."

Finnius froze in his seat.

"Why don't we show him what happens to those who try to interfere in the Black Family Business."

Finnius pulled his wand but dropped it immediately as a hard piece of wood smashed against his wrist.

He glanced up quickly to see one of the fools that had been playing swords with a pool cue had just smashed his arm with said cue.

Mitchell tightened his tie and picked up a suit jacket that had been tossed over the back of the couch.

All around the pub, people brushed wrinkles out of their clothes and tidied themselves up.

"We don't have a dragon," Mitchell said, eliciting laughs from some of those around him. "But our little lady does, and I'm quite certain she'd be interested to hear what you have to say about where old Voldy-mort is hiding out."


	4. The Grail of Fire I

_An Omake inspired by a lot of conversations about who would summon whom in a S &S-universe Grail War._

 _Also comparisons between the Grail War and the Triwizard Tournament._

 _Also, my obsession with Fate/Grand Order._

 **Omake: The Grail of Fire**

Everyone quieted down as Dumbledore once again took the podium.

"Well." He said, silencing the last of the whispered conversations. "It is unclear how it happened, but Iris's name did come out of the Goblet, so she must participate in this tournament."

Shouting broke out across the Great Hall until Dumbledore once again used his wand to make a loud noise that startled the crowd into silence.

"We shall investigate further at a later date. But for now, we must finish the the ritual of Champion Selection.

"You see, before the Goblet of Fire was used for the Triwizard Tournament, it was used in a ritual that set the competitors into mortal combat with each other, each of them helped by a Supporter that was summoned using the Grail-*cough* *cough* using the Goblet.

"Each Supporter was a Heroic Spirit, the spirit of a legendary figure embodied into one of seven classes. These classes are: Saber, Lancer, Archer, Caster, Rider, Assassin, and Berserker."

"To complete the Selection, we shall have each of the Champions approach the Goblet, and release a drop of blood into the flames. The Goblet will then summon the best Supporter to assist them in their tasks."

Dumbledore nodded to the side and the Champions all filed out from the side room they had been waiting in.

"The first selected," Dumbledore spoke dramatically, "Cedric Diggory. Please step forward."

Cedric stepped up to the Goblet and, using a small knife he had been given, pricked his thumb and flicked the resulting drop of blood into the fires of the Goblet.

The fires roared in response and rose high into the air, until they eventually spilled out over the edge of the Goblet and pooled on the floor in front of it.

The green flames rose up into a humanoid shape, and with a final roar, guttered out and left behind a tall, pale, feminine looking man wearing archaic looking armor. His right arm appeared to be made of silver, and he clutched a beautiful silver sword.

"I am Bedivere, and my class is Saber." He spoke out in a soft tone that easily carried through the entire Great Hall.

Gasps and whispered expletives made their way through the assembled crowd. It was an unbelievable claim, to be one of The Knights of the Round Table, but no one who felt Bedivere's distinguished presence could doubt his word, or his power.

The knight cast his gaze around the room before turning to face Cedric.

"Champion." He spoke softly. "I shall be your Supporter in the trials to come."

Cedric stood stock still in shock for a moment.

"Thank you, Sir Knight." He said eventually.

Dumbledore gestured to the side, and Cedric and Bedivere stepped to the side to observe the rest of the summoning.

"Second Champion," Dumbledore drew some of the attention back away from the legendary knight. "Victor Krum."

Krum walked up to the Goblet, and, like Cedric, flicked a drop of blood into its fires.

When the flare of fire subsided, a large, muscular man stood hunched in front of the Goblet.

His skin was an unhealthy brown, as if he had been cooked in some fire rather than tanned by the sun. Golden tattoos trailed down his arms and seemed to glow with an inner heat. Each of his hands held a wicked looking weapon that glowed with barely repressed killing intent.

"Beowulf." The man growled. "Berserker."

The entire room was silent, no one willing or able to speak in front of the sheer violent presence this man gave off.

Beowulf turned to Krum and growled.

Dumbledore tentatively cleared his throat and gestured for Krum to join Cedric on the side.

When Krum moved, Beowulf fell in behind him like a barely trained animal.

"Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore called out.

Fleur stepped up and performed the summoning ritual.

When the flames cleared, there was a young, teenage girl, perhaps 13 years old standing there. She had eerie yellow eyes and incredibly long blond hair that reached down to her ankles. Her outfit was also strange. It was a white dress that was completely open from her waist to her shoulders, revealing the black bra that she was wearing underneath. A warm looking shrug covered her shoulders. Navy, thigh-high socks, and silver high heels complemented the silver decorative helmet she wore. Various green and red ties secured parts of her outfit.

She was holding a gigantic spear with incredibly long red and green tassels.

"I am Jeanne D'Arc Alter Santa Lilly!" She proclaimed imperiously in a childish voice. "My class is Lancer."

Everyone stared. While this girl clearly matched the other summoned heroes for presence, she was a child. Definitely a child. Also, her clothes were weird, and perhaps a little too risque for The Maiden of Orleans.

"Champion!" Jeanne turned to face Fleur. "Oh, wow, you're so pretty!... *Ahem*... I shall give you the present of my support in your coming trials."

She then took Fleur's hand and began to chat in French as they walked over to join the other Champions and their Supporters.

"Iris Potter." Dumbledore intoned, drawing the girl forward as murmurs broke out in the audience.

She followed the example of the other Champions and waited patiently while the flames cleared around her summoned Supporter.

The revealed hero stood reasonably tall, but all of their features were hidden by an encompassing black cloak, the shadows of which served to hide even their face from view.

The cloaked figure glanced slowly around the room before they began to laugh. Loud, but melodious, the laughter echoed around the room for a moment before the figure reached up and pulled back their hood.

A cascade of black hair fell down to the middle of her back. Delicate facial features surrounded a roguish grin and intense emerald eyes.

"Iris Potter." She shouted to the assembled crowd. "Caster."

Then she turned and hexed Snape.


	5. The Grail of Fire II

_A direct continuation of the previous chapter_

 **Omake: The Grail of Fire II**

By the end of Caster's spell chain, Snape was wearing a ridiculous hat and dress, which anyone who had seen Neville's Riddikulus-ed Boggart were familiar with. A grin was stretched painfully across his face, and he was singing and dancing to I'm a Little Teapot.

She sighed contentedly and lowered her wand.

She turned and grinned at her younger self before she vanished and reappeared directly behind her, engulfing her in a hug.

"I was so cute when I was fourteen!" She squealed.

She then cleared her throat and spoke seriously, despite not releasing young Iris from her hug.

"Champion, I will be your Support through your trials ahead."

"Iris..." Dumbledore spoke, earning the attention of both versions, though the younger one had to squirm around in the hug to look.

"The older one." He clarified.

"Caster." She responded. "Let's keep things from getting too confusing. You can call me Caster."

"Then, Caster, how did you do that? You shouldn't be able to apparate in the castle."

Caster considered him for a minute before she smirked at him.

"Magic." She replied.

Out in the audience, Rin's hand slammed down into the Ravenclaw Table hard enough to make the girl wince.

At the Hufflepuff table, Susan Bones leaned over to one of her year mates and whispered to him.

"Shirou," she said, "why are you silently weeping into your hands?"

"Why?" He asked, plaintively. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

Back up at the Head Table, Caster leaned down to her charge and whispered: "Let's move out. The real entertainment is about to being."

When Iris nodded, the two of them vanished from the Head Table to instantly appear among the other Champions and their Supporters.

"What do you mean?" Iris asked as Caster wandlessly Transfigured their chairs to be more comfortable.

Caster just replied with a mischievous grin.

Iris narrowed her eyes, but didn't get to ask further due to a loud boom that echoed from the Head Table.

The fires in the Goblet were now a towering inferno, smaller fires were breaking off to circle around the inferno, then began to drift out over the assembled students.

"What's happening!?" McGonagall cried out, her wand ready, but unsure of what to cast or where to point it.

"The Goblet is picking more Champions." Caster called out from her seat, drawing every eye towards her. "You reactivated the old rules. That means that it has to find seven Champions, one for each Class."

Everyone turned to follow the floating fires as they moved about in the air of the Great Hall.

"'Let's pick Champions with a panel of judges', I said." Madame Maxine complained out loud. "But noooooo. We had to use the ancient cup that endangers the students with its mere presence. Let's also break the locks on the old rules that no one understands anymore. Fiddle with an artifact that is more memorable for the number of people it has killed than anyone who actually completed a Tournament."

She scowled as the fires settled down in front of several students.

Rin drew a pen knife and used it to draw and flick a drop of blood into the fire that had settled in front of her.

The flame rose into the air and grew into a human shape.

When the fire died, the person remained floating in the air. She was the very image of beauty, and people of every gender within a radius of her had to forcibly close their mouths to keep the drool from leaking out.

She wore a white bikini top, with portions of it covered in gold leaf; a black bikini bottom with more gold; and a single knee high sock on her right foot which was decorated and armored.

An absolutely gigantic bow floated in the air behind her.

The truly strange thing that stood out was that, with the exception of her red eyes, she looked like an older version of Rin.

"My name is Ishtar." The floating woman stated, floating slowly down to hover next to Rin. "My Class is Archer. Champion, I shall be your Supporter in the trials to come."

Across the Hall, Hermione flicked her own blood into the flame that rested before her.

"I am Boudica." The beautiful, red-headded woman claimed with a voice of authority. "My class is Rider.

"Child of Britannia, you would have my blessing no matter the circumstances, but as a Champion, I would gladly be your Supporter."

At the Hufflepuff table, Shirou slowly raised his face from his hands to glare at the fire before him.

With a long sigh, he flicked his own blood into it.

"Shirou," the young, blond woman queried when she emerged from the flame, "why does this keep happening to you?"

Shirou just shook his head in response.

"That's quite a look for you, Saber." He commented.

"It's not Saber." She replied, looking down at her outfit.

She was wearing thigh high, black socks; rather immodest hot pants; and a tank top that looked like a prop from the Tron movie, which was open at the bottom reveal her toned stomach.

A blue baseball cap covered a chunk of her blond hair, though her ahoge managed to stick through the brim somehow.

Finally, her famous sword was swaddled in a thin, blue scarf, obscuring it from view.

"My Ki-" Bedivere started to say, before he was cut off by a glare from the blonde.

"My true name will remain a secret." The new hero declared. "You may call me 'Mysterious Heroine X', or 'X'. My class is Assassin."

"Shirou." She turned to address the young version of her former master. "It seems that once again I shall be your blade. You have my Support, Champion."


	6. The Grail of Fire III

**Omake: Grail of Fire III - A Dragon? Really?**

"Really?" Jeanne said in a bored voice as she stood next to her trembling Champion. "A dragon? I hope this isn't the best they could do."

"I know you're strong." Fleur said, trying to hide any hitch in her voice. "But we aren't allowed to seriously harm the dragon, and I don't think we'll be able to get to the golden egg it's protecting without a plan or something." She let out a shuddering breath. "I wish someone had given us at least a hint about this trial."

Jeanne looked at her companion archly.

"I may be in my young form, but I am still the Dragon Witch."

She slammed the butt of her spear into the ground, calling the attention of the large, scaled lizard across the arena.

"Kneel!" She shouted, her childish voice easily carrying over the sound of the crowd.

The dragon knelt, its head lowered and eyes closed in respect to Jeanne D'Arc Alter Santa Lilly.

"I can't touch the egg." Jeanne informed her shocked companion. "So you're going to have to pick it up." Then she yawned, quickly moving her hand to cover her wide open mouth.

A slight blush touched her cheeks when she realized what she had done in front of a crowd.

"Maybe when we're done, we could go do something fun?" She looked pleadingly up at Fleur as she led the way past the kneeling dragon and up to the golden egg.

"I've never actually had someone request that I _don't_ slay the dragon." X said casually.

"It would be a lot easier if we could just kill it." Shirou said, considering the situation.

"That's probably what is supposed to make it a challenge."

"Have you got anything for this?"

"Since I've been summoned into the land of my legend, I'm a bit stronger than I otherwise would be, and I have a few more items at my disposal."

"Like?"

"I don't have Presence Concealment, but I do have this." X pulled out a silvery sheet of material.

"That'll work." Shirou said as he and X donned the invisibility cloak and made their way across the arena, to the great confusion of the dragon and the crowd.

"The dragon is drooling." Rin commented as she walked past it, on her way to the golden egg.

"You shouldn't mock an animal in love." Ishtar replied. "Besides, most of the audience seems to be having trouble keeping themselves from drooling. That a beast does is not something to comment on when humans can't keep themselves in line."

Rin snorted lightly as she picked up the egg and completed her "trial".

"This is why I suggested that we don't do the dragon challenge with Beowulf summoned as a Berserker." Madame Maxine said acidly. "I hope that Durmstrang has enough spare funds to pay off the Romanian Dragon Preserve for this outcome."

None of her fellow judges responded.

They all simply stared down at the scene of carnage below them.

"What have we got?" Iris asked.

"Well... We could try getting on a broom and out flying it." Caster responded.

"Out fly a dragon? That seems dangerous and stupid."

"Right? Let's just cut to the chase then."

Caster snapped her fingers and the golden egg disappeared from under its guardian dragon and dropped into Iris's hands.

"Wanna play some pickup Quidditch after this?" Caster asked over the stunned silence of the crowd.

Iris blinked down at the egg in her hands before turning to join Caster as they made their way out of the stadium.

"Who's gonna play Seeker?" Iris asked.

"Why, Iris Potter of course." Caster replied with a smirk.

They walked in silence for a moment.

"Flip you for it." Iris said finally.

"Stupid deal." Caster snorted. "But I'll take it."

"Do you have any awesome abilities that will help us get through this in a single action?" Cedric asked hopefully.

"My apologies, Champion." Bedivere replied. "I'm afraid that I am a bit less flexible than my fellow Supporters. Strategy and direct combat are my specialities. Having been summoned into the land of my legend only serves to make my combat abilities stronger."

"So...?"

"I'm afraid we're actually going to have to get by the dragon and steal the egg." Bedivere said with a sigh. "No fancy Supporter tricks."

"Damn."

"Hermione, you are so clever." Boudica said as she patted the young student on the back.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Hermione replied, blushing slightly.

"I've told you before, call me Boudica, or I'll be angry." Boudica put her hands on her hips and gave Hermione a mock glare.

She let off on the glare and instead smirked.

"Those were some impressive spells you used." She complimented. "I think you definitely gave the most impressive display of any of the Champions."

"It was just an illusion spell combined with a few different sleeping and paralysis spells. I didn't know what would work against a dragon, so I had to try a number of different things."

"Hermione." Boudica rolled her eyes. "That's what I'm saying was impressive. The other Champions relied on their Supporters to get through this trial, and Cedric only managed to get through by running around and having Bedivere distract the dragon and tank some of the hits. You actually managed to get through without my help, on the merit of your own wits and magic."

"Oh." Hermione was looking away and blushing heavily now, having now response to the intense compliments.

"Oh." Boudica said dangerously, drawing Hermione's attention back to her.

But Boudica's attention was on the judges' table, where Karkaroff had given her a score of three out of ten.

Hermione wilted.

"Stay here a moment, will you." Boudica said, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "It seems that I can provide you with a bit of support in this trial. If only to have a chat with one of the judges."


	7. The Grail of Fire IV

**Omake: The Grail of Fire IV - It's Obligatory**

"The plan for the Second Task was as follows." Dumbledore waited for the sudden rush of murmurs from the crowd to die down. "A friend of each of the Champions would be Charmed and placed at the bottom of Black Lake. It would be a test of each of the Champions and their Supporters to brave the freezing cold waters of Black Lake in February, navigate the other threats present in the lake, and rescue their friend."

Dumbledore let out a long sigh.

"Unfortunately," he continued. "Iris Potter's Supporter, Caster Iris Potter, spent all night foiling any attempts to get the captured students into the lake. She then used some kind of grand magic to replace Black Lake with what Madame Maxine insists is a beach from Southern France... in the summer." He reached up to adjust the sunglasses he had been forced to Conjure to combat the intense glare from the pristine sandy beach and beautiful blue sea that spread out in front of him, far surpassing what should have been contained within the confines of Black Lake.

He tugged at the collar of his robes a bit as well. He had dressed for Scotland in February and was dealing with something more akin to Nice in July. At least Karkaroff looked more uncomfortable since he refused to doff his heavy furs. A bit more talking and he would be able to sit down and cast some discreet Cooling Charms onto himself.

At least the crowd was under no obligation to maintain station as he and the judges were, and most of them had already Transfigured their clothes into something more fitting of the apparent season.

"I'm sorry that all of you came all the way out here, but I'm afraid that we are going to have to defer the Second Task to a later date while we decide—"

"There's no need for that!" A loud voice spoke over the venue.

Caster pushed aside the curtains of the Champions' tent and stepped out.

She was probably the most aptly dressed for the strange weather/season situation. Which was appropriate, since she was also the cause of it.

She was wearing a hot-rod red bikini with gold colored edging. The Gryffindor emblem was prominent on the left breast of her bikini and did nothing to draw attention away from the ornately detailed tattoo of a Hungarian Horntail that curled around her breasts.

Iris Potter trailed after her a moment later, wearing a much more modest one-piece swimsuit with the same color scheme.

"Caster," Dumbledore grumbled, "since you're culpable for this, I can only assume you had a suggestion for where to go from here."

"Of course." Caster turned and glanced back at the Champions' tent and shouted at it. "You all can come out now!"

Shirou was the next out of the tent, wearing only tight spandex swim trunks. They were mostly black but had yellow highlights to match the Hufflepuff color scheme.

A number of whistles could be heard from the crowd as some students couldn't help but appreciate the boy's muscular body, which was insanely well developed for a fourteen-year-old.

Mysterious Heroine X followed him out. She was wearing a white bikini with blue ties on the top and bottom. Her mysterious sword was absent and she was carrying a muggle squirt gun for some reason.

Rin and Ishtar were the next pair out.

Ishtar's normal costume was already practically a bikini, so nothing about it had changed, Rin was now simply wearing a matching outfit with a small Ravenclaw emblem painted onto the skin just above her left hip.

Fleur was wearing a sky blue bikini with silver highlights. She walked with confidence but kept shooting angry looks at Iris, who was grinning mischievously. The crowd was very appreciative of her outfit.

Jeanne D'Arc Alter Santa Lilly wore a black bikini that seemed far, far, far too skimpy for a child of her age. In fact, it looked like she had simply taken off the open-faced dress she usually wore to reveal the black underwear underneath. Dumbledore considered commenting on it, but remembered what the girl had done to the dragon in the last task. He would prefer to avoid being chased around by Charmed Dragons, thank you very much.

Viktor and Beowulf both wore speedos, showing off their intimidating musculature.

Cedric and Bedivere came out next, and Dumbledore was certain that he saw the two of them sparkle for a moment as the two pretty boys smiled towards the crowd.

Hermione didn't draw too much attention in her simple one-piece swimsuit, but her Supporter Boudica had quite the opposite effect.

The red-headed hero was wearing what could generously be called a bikini. Two white cups rested on the very ends of her prodigious breasts, held together by a small golden ring, and Dumbledore suspected that magic was possibly the only reason they stayed there and kept any form of modesty whatsoever. A tiny patch of white cloth covered her crotch, and it stretched up to the tops of her hips.

He couldn't see from his location, but Dumbledore suspected that no much of the Supporters butt was covered at all.

A brief break was held while medical crews swept the crowd, cleaning up blood from explosive nosebleeds and clearing out those who had fainted from the spectacle.

"What did you have in mind, Caster?" Dumbledore asked once the crowd had been cleaned up.

"Well, we have a beach here and we are already paired up." She raised her hand and a ball the size of a Quaffle appeared in her hand. "I think we can settle this Task with a game of Magical Volleyball."

Dumbledore frowned. He wasn't very familiar with the sport, so he didn't know if it would meet the requirements of what a Task should be like.

"It would be quite simple," Iris continued. "A round-robin style tournament. Each team plays each of the others once. Task points are given at the end based on who had the most number of wins as well as any style points the judges want to dole out."

"Why not?" Madame Maxine spoke up from her seat at the table. "Volleyball seems like a much more tame means for testing our Champions. After what Beowulf did during the last Task, I'm much more in favor of something like this happening."

Dumbledore stopped to consider it for a minute. He didn't have anything else to use, and the only other option was sending everyone home until they could come up with something new.

"Very well," he said loud enough for the crowd to hear. "The Second Task will be a Magical Volleyball Tournament."

He sat down as the crowd began to roar their approval.

When no one was looking, he cast a quick Cooling Charm onto himself.

It was too hot for this.

-o-o-o-o-

"Well..." Madame Maxine took a gulp of her colorful, fruity drink that a House Elf had provided for her.

Dumbledore suspected that she was requesting a more alcoholic variant on each refill.

He didn't really blame her.

"Next time I suggest that any Task in this form of the Triwizard Tournament might resemble anything like the word 'tame', I would like one of you to slap me."

Dumbledore surveyed the carnage.

What had once been a beach was now more glass than sand. Craters dotted the landscape, many of them containing the deflated corpse of at least one volleyball. Somehow, the net and scoreboard were still standing.

Caster, the woman responsible for this debacle was making her way through the numerous stretchers laid out on the ground, showing off her prodigious magical abilities by regrowing missing limbs and healing grievous wounds with a wave of her hand as she walked past injured spectators.

None of the Champions had been seriously injured in the batt—tournament, but the Supporters had gotten _**really**_ competitive during the games, and the results tended to splash out of the volleyball court and into stands.

By some miracle, no one had died yet, but he was thankful that the Second Task was over.

The next Task would require some serious deliberation. Maybe the Champions would have to play Wizard Chess. But no, who knows what Heroic levels of Charisma would allow the Supporters to get the chess pieces to do.

His head was suddenly filled with the image of Shirou and X leading a small army of chess knights into a heroic charge against an entrenched set of rooks that had taken up residence in the Potions classroom. Hermione and Boudica would launch caustic potions from their defended positions.

Ishtar and Fleur could easily convince Hogwarts students to dress up as chess pawns to supplement their forces.

Maybe painting. They would all have to paint something, and the art would be judged. No direct conflict, that seemed like the best solution.

His musings were interrupted by the clink of glass as Maxime put down her now empty drink.

Less than a second later, a full glass was placed next to the empty one.

"Many thanks." Maxine slurred softly as she picked up the tropical drink.

"No problem," Caster replied, her near constant smile blossoming into a grin.

Maxine looked up in surprise. She glowered for a moment, but, instead of speaking, simply took a long drink from her fresh glass.

"If you don't mind me asking, Caster..." Dumbledore sank into his seat and quietly wished for his own fruity drink.

"Go ahead." She nodded to him and hefted a fruity drink of her own.

"Why all this?" He gestured around to encompass the whole scene.

"Well... You've seen Boudica and X and Fleur, right?"

Dumbledore nodded silently, wondering where this was going.

"Well, I had to get them all into bikinis somehow." She spoke with a completely serious voice. "It was obligatory."


	8. The Grail of Fire V?

_A possible direction I could take the Grail of Fire series in, with a stronger Fate/Grand Order tie in._

 _No guarantee this is actually the way future chapters go_

 **Omake: The Grail of Fire - The Singular Order of Things**

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

In the Gryffindor girls' dorm, Iris awoke with a shout. Sweat poured from her body and her breath came in ragged gasps.

She blinked slowly into the midnight gloom as her brain ran through practiced patterns for dream analysis.

It has been too literal to be portentous. Too varied in perspective to have been a memory. Too… everything to have been just a dream.

Her heart rate, which had been returning to normal, picked back up again as she threw her blankets aside and lunged from her bed towards the door of the room.

When she reached the door to the common room, she stopped. Releasing an annoyed huff, she grabbed the doorknob, closed her eyes, turned away from the door, then gave a sharp tug on the knob.

She knew she was successful when the knob warmed up slightly and began to reconfigure itself in her hand.

Not willing to wait for the knob to fully change into the statuesque lion's head as she knew it would, she gave a quick twist on the morphing handle and pulled the door open.

What lay beyond was not the Gryffindor common room, but the large office that had been taken over by the summoned version of her own older self, Caster.

The woman in question hovered over one of the many tables that were strewn throughout the room.

Said table held a screw, an egg beater, a fishing hook, a bottle of paint, and a stick of incense. Nothing else.

Iris glanced at the random objects, wondering just what her older self was planning to do. She was completely sure that they were connected to some event which would be adding more grey hair to the heads of the people running the awkwardly titled Sept-Wizard Showdown. How that would happen though… and with those specific items… the details eluded her.

She shook her head to clear the distraction and stared at her older self.

Caster looked up at her intrusion and slowly raised an eyebrow.

They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes while Iris worked her mouth, trying to come up with something to say.

"So." Her older self broke the silence. "From your expression, I'm guessing you've reached _that_ part of the dream cycle." A wide grin spread across her face and she flickered across the room to stand beside Iris. She gently nudged the girl into the room and closed the door behind her. "I'm not exactly sure why you're surprised though. I'm a Heroic Spirit. That's not exactly a title you earn by collecting bottle caps."

"But! What about—!" Iris waved her hands around in an attempt to compensate for her inability to find words to describe what she had seen." I thought—! … Voldemort?"

Caster laughed as she directed Iris to sit in an overstuffed chair that hadn't been there a moment ago, then passed her a steaming cup of tea, which she apparently pulled from thin air. "I supposed Dumbledore might be cross with me for besmirching your adorably innocent worldview, but allow me to impart a few facts about this world." Caster took a seat on her own newly extant chair and began to sip from her own cup of tea. "Against the scale of the world, Voldemort is nothing.

"Against the collective of humanity, actions that crash through the Wizarding World barely cause a ripple, because these actions are naturally hidden from the great majority of humanity.

"Voldemort could conquer all of Magical Britain and rule in darkness for decades, and he wouldn't even be a blip on humanity's radar. And likewise, crushing him earns us mention in books and papers that will only ever be read my magicals."

Iris stared at the older version of herself, letting the memories from her dream play out again. "Wow…. So you…."

"Yup! And do you want to know the best part?"

Iris nodded excitedly.

"I got to name it!" Caster grinned.

" _It_?"

"Yup. I called it Ragna-rock."

Iris blinked a few times then let out a mournful groan and pressed her face into her hands. "That's so bad!"

"I know right!?" Caster cackled. "And they went along with it. That's in the history books now…. Well, it will be in the history books."

"Is that how you actually ended up on the Throne?" Iris glanced up between her fingers. "Did Hermione kill you for making such a deplorable pun?"

Caster smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Nah. Not for lack of trying on her part though. I don't suppose the dream cycle showed you the look on her face when all was said and done."

Iris shook her head.

"Shame. Maybe next time. If you don't get a dream vision of it, make sure to watch her closely when the events actually pass for—" Caster cocked her head to the side and appeared to be listening to something that Iris couldn't hear. "What the hell?"

Caster stood from her seat and walked towards a window which hadn't been there before and overlooked the Hogwarts grounds from somewhere nowhere near the Gryffindor tower.

Iris placed her teacup down on a convenient end table and went to join her senior self at the window.

They both watched as a thick fog rolled in from the forests and began to extend across the castle grounds like a reaching claw.

Iris squinted her eyes as she tried to pick out small hints of movement she spied in the soupy mist.

Caster must have seen them as well, but she was better equipped to take action.

With a sweep of her hand, a sharp wind blew through the area, pushing the fog back and revealing a small band of moving skeletons that had been hidden by the mist. Another twist of her hand caused lighting to strike all the skeletons at once, shattering them.

"Inferni?" Iris asked.

"No. Inferni are just animated corpses, with no remnants of the original being within them. These are actually lesser undead. Reanimated bones moved by hateful emotions they possessed in life…." She trailed off as they both tracked a barely perceptible shadow as it scampered across the grounds away from the castle.

Caster sent another spell after it, but it handily dodged the attack and vanished into the forest, barely disturbing the mist.

"Presence concealment…." Caster glanced up at the full moon that had allowed the two of them to see in the dark as though it were mid-day. "And it definitely wasn't X. Has someone else summoned an Assassin?"

The fog once again crept towards the castle, only to be turned away by Caster's wind. The revealed skeleton warriors were each struck with Explosion Curses this time, wiping them out.

 _'Awaken!_ ' Caster's voice echoed through Iris's mind. ' _Everyone awaken! The castle is under attack.'_

Iris felt a shiver run down her spine as she spotted seven silhouettes standing at the edge of the fog.

Caster spotted them too. ' _All Servants, prepare for combat against enemy Servants.'_

-o-o-o-o-

A few days had passed and the noisy panic of the first night had settled into a much quieter panic. The Great Hall was filled with students that had come down for a breakfast consumed between hissed whispers to their fellows.

Classes were canceled, and the grounds were off limits to anyone that didn't want to be attacked by wandering undead, so the students that finished their food quickly simply went back to their dorms to wonder about what had become of the rest of the world.

The teachers could give no assurances on that either. No form of communication, magical or mundane could reach beyond the fog that surrounded the castle. The Floo wouldn't connect. Shirou had made a trip to the edge of the grounds and back before reporting that Apparition and Portkeys simply caused the user to rebound back to their initial location.

Hogsmeade could be reached through some of the castle's secret passages, but the town was completely empty except for a few wandering wraiths, leaving no sign of where the inhabitants had gone.

Durmstrang had abandoned their ship and Beauxbaton their carriage. Both sets of students huddled in the castle along with their Hogwarts counterparts.

The initial assault from the enemy Servants had been repelled, but the Goblet of Fire had been taken, and Caster was convinced that their enemy would use it to summon more Servants than they would be able to defend against.

The air of the castle was thick with tension and fear. Iris could practically feel it dragging at her limbs as she mechanically moved food from her plate to her mouth.

The Servants of the Tournament had been the only real defense the Castle had, and they were constantly active keeping the mist and the undead at bay.

It was convenient for the security of the students that the Servants didn't need food or sleep, though continuous activity from them, without the Goblet nearby to sustain them, caused a significant drain on their Summoners.

' _Iris._ ' Caster's voice resounded in her head. ' _I need you to open the front gates. I'm providing cover to a group retreating from the undead horde._ '

Iris immediately dropped her spoon and jumped up from her spot at the table, rushing towards the Entrance Hall.

Once there, she pressed her hand against the giant wall of steel that Caster had put in place over the door.

At her touch, the steel peeled back from the large castle doors. The giant wooden beam that feel across the doors lifted itself away, and the doors themselves opened with an ominous creek.

Two people rushed in, followed a moment later by Caster herself, who sealed the entrance again with a wave of her hand.

Iris's eyes were naturally drawn towards one of the new arrivals. It was a young woman, and Iris was convinced that she was a Servant.

Not because Iris had any particular skill for spotting Heroic Spirits or anything, though she did have a bit more presence than a normal person. No, it was because this girl was wearing an absolutely ridiculous set of armor, but still managed to look cool, cute, and beautiful while doing it.

"Thank you for the help," the probably-Servant said once she caught her breath. "My name is Mash Kyrielight, a Demi-Servant." She gestured towards the person next to her, who was still gasping for air. "This is my Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru. We're here to resolve the distortion in reality here before it becomes a Singularity."


End file.
